Title: Judge Not According to Appearance
Rating: K+
Character: Simon Blackquill (main)
Spoilers: Dual Destinies
Time: Summer 2007
Aurelius Blackquill surveyed his quiet studio. His drafting table was loaded with a fresh sheet of paper, his jeweler's loupe was ready, his bookcase was immaculately alphabetized. The glass display case next to his desk displayed some pieces that served for inspiration: a large, uncut diamond along with some pieces by masters such as Cartier, Tiffany, and Faberge. Aurelius Blackquill was a jewelry designer by trade. The walls of the studio were covered in design sketches, as well as some colored photographs of Aurelius' previous work.
All signs pointed to creativity reigning supreme for the day. Which was the way Aurelius liked it.
Of course, something – or someone – had to disrupt the creative process. Such was sitcom logic, which ran the world as surely as the laws of physics.
The sturdy walnut door of the studio flew open, revealing Aurelius' eight year old son."Daddy, I'm bored!" A few of the nearby sketches fell off the wall and landed on the floor.
Aurelius got up from his drafting table. "Want to go see a movie?" He was on a deadline for his fall collection, but he could deal with that later. His son took priority – Simon had proved that eight years ago. As a baby, he could cry loud enough to wake up the entire building. And some people in the surrounding buildings.
"There aren't any Westerns playing. Or anything with a decent swordfight!"
I've got to talk to Rosetta about letting him watch the complete works of Akira Kurosawa, thought Aurelius. But lecturing his wife about appropriate content for their son would have to wait. "How about a book? I've got lots of stuff here that you might find interesting. Would you like something with pictures?"
Simon moved to the bookcase and looked at the extensive collection of books. Some of them were art books, filled with full-color illustrations of not just jewelry masterpieces, but sculpture, paintings, and architecture. There was some fiction; ranging from historical fiction to detective novels. There were references on gemstones, from almandine to zoisite. Simon took out one such encyclopedia on gemstones, opened it, and looked at the photograph plates disdainfully."Your line of work...it's worthless."
Aurelius started. "Worthless? What do you mean?"
"Mama's work is really important. She studies ancient languages. You just carve up fancy rocks and put them in baubles for rich people to wear. Gemstones are just rocks. You find them everywhere on the ground." Simon returned the book to the shelf.
"You do realize your maternal grandfather spent his life acquiring gemstones?" Aurelius gestured to the uncut diamond in the glass case near his desk, which stood in stark contrast to the polished jewels of the surrounding finished pieces. "He gave that one to your mom, who gave it to me as a wedding gift."
"Yes, I know," Simon replied. "It's the Venusian Diamond. Said to grant the owner's most fond wish. But that's just a story. Grandfather told me that none of his gems rivaled his true most prized possession. Mama."
Aurelius laughed softly. "Touche. Your mother is truly a gem of a person."
"So you see?" Simon asked. "Gemstones are dumb." He poked at some small uncut diamonds in a tray on Aurelius' desk. "These look like gravel."
"They're raw diamonds."
"Mama told me that diamonds were thought to be ice that didn't melt. Ice is cold. You can't touch it. It melts quickly. It's transient. Worthless."
"Did she tell you the root of the word diamond? The Greek word adámas. Unbreakable. And that diamond is practically the only substance that ranks a 10 on the Mohs scale of hardness?"
"Yes, but all they are is carbon. Carbon's everywhere. I'm full of the stuff. Does that make me valuable?"
"You're worth more to me than gold," Aurelius said. "Does that count?"
Simon snorted. "Do you ever realize how cheesy you sound sometimes?"
"All right," Aurelius replied. "You are correct. Diamonds and graphite are both allotropes of carbon. The carbon atoms in a diamond would look the same as the ones in a piece of graphite, if you could see them. The difference is how they're arranged. The carbon atoms in a diamond are arranged in an extremely rigid cubic lattice. Graphite has a planar lattice. The layers slide easily over each other. Which is why it's used in pencil leads."
"Graphite doesn't look anything like diamond, I admit that," Simon answered. "But glass looks like diamond. And the prismatic color play of diamond can be mimicked with the right glass. And anyone could make pretty glass by melting sand. Aura even showed me how to do it. She was blowing some quartz glass for one of her projects."
"Yes," Aurelius said. "But at the molecular level, glass does not have a crystalline structure. It cools too quickly for that. It's amorphous. It may look pretty, but pales in comparison to diamond. Which, too, fades away. It just takes millions of years for them to do so. Don't tell DeBeers, though. That whole 'diamond is forever' thing seems to be working gangbusters for them."
Simon looked at the uncut diamonds again. "I'm curious about something."
"What?" Aurelius asked.
"How do you know how to cut each one? You can only cut once. And every cut you make is so precise."
"You have to look at them closely. Also, you have to see more than you're used to seeing."
"See more than I'm used to seeing?"
"Yes, it's an essential skill. Not just to an artist, but for anyone. To see beyond appearances. Seeing within an egg a bird, or a seed a plant. Please, if you learn nothing else from me, learn this: judge not according to appearance. Very few things are as they look on the surface."
XXX
Time: Shortly after Dual Destinies
Athena Cykes looked so out of place in the graveyard, with her vibrant colors. She was wearing her usual bright yellow suit-dress, white boots, and blue tie. Widget was in his usual place around her neck, displaying its default blue neutral (yet oddly happy) expression. Her hair, which could only be called carrot-colored, was in its long ponytail. Her gold moon-rock earring in the shape of a crescent moon dangled from her ear. An angel, truly an anachronism in this solemn place of shadows and ghosts. "Come on, Simon!"
"Hmph," Simon Blackquill huffed. Unlike Athena, he looked like he belonged in a graveyard. He was clad in his navy waistcoat and trousers, black boots, heavy black coat embroidered with his family crest, . "We need to talk about using my first name again!"
Athena pouted. "I promise to only call you Prosecutor Blackquill in court."
"Why are we here?" Blackquill complained.
"You promised we'd pay our respects!"
"But your mother isn't buried here!"
"Your parents, silly!" Athena held up her bouquet. White and black roses. "I thought these would be nice. Your mom was wearing black and white roses in her aigrette in that portrait. And those cool black and white feathers."
"She always had roses and white feathers in her hair," Blackquill commented. "She added black feathers after she was married. To announce to the world how proud she was to be Mrs. Blackquill."
"So your parents really loved each other?" Athena asked.
"My father loved his family more than life itself," Blackquill said. "And I know my mother felt the same. So yes, though it feels alien to associate my mother with such an abstract and romantic concept as love."
"She was probably like my mother," Athena said. "Didn't know how to be affectionate. Do you ever wish she was more affectionate?"
"My father showed me enough affection for both of them," Blackquill answered. "Why do you want to see my parents' graves? You never met my mother."
"There are a lot of people I'll never meet," Athena said. "Like...him. Bobby Fulbright. Do you think he'll be buried soon?"
The remains identified as Bobby Fulbright – the real Bobby Fulbright – were still in the city morgue, as part of the ongoing investigation against the Phantom.
"I don't know," Blackquill replied. "I suppose as soon as the remains and evidence are documented." He stopped at a path junction. The left fork led to the family plots, where the rest of the Blackquills (quite a few; the Blackquills were a long-standing family) were interred. The right fork led to the mausoleums. "Do you mind if we go right? There is someone I should visit."
"Who?" Athena asked.
"My grandfather. Roland Stone."
"Wasn't he a mob boss?" Athena asked. "I never connected him to your mother."
"She tried to distance herself from him and his reputation," Blackquill said, walking down the path.
Athena followed. "I guess Stone is a common enough name."
They reached the mausoleums. One of them was dedicated to the Stone family. Blackquill looked to the most recent one. Roland Stone, 1937-2009. Requiescat in pace. Rest in peace. His mother had chosen the inscription. She had a particular liking for Latin, as well as brevity. "He died when I was ten. I knew him as a kind man. Sometimes the people we love do bad things. We have no control over their actions. Only our own."
Athena was solemn. She was obviously thinking about Aura.
"Let us go," Blackquill said.
The walk to the Blackquill family plots was silent.
"Here," Blackquill said. Two stones, of whitest alabaster, with stark black letters. Very well-tended. The one on the left read: Rosetta Stone Blackquill, 1967-2018. Beloved daughter, wife, mother, and teacher. May her light never fade. The inscription was of Aurelius' choosing. Sweet, romantic, as were the roses carved along the margins of the stone.
Aurelius' stone was unadorned with pictures. Only text. Aurelius Blackquill, 1969-2020. Tu fui ego eris. Aura had picked out the inscription. It meant, "What you are, I was, what I am, you will be." Memento mori. A reminder of the inescapability of death. For what were the dead but those who lived and breathed? Typical her. Morbid. Abrasive.
What would Aura have chosen for me? "Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment"? Yes. That sounded right. A perfect fit for the grave of one falsely accused.
"Judge not according to appearance. Very few things are as they look on the surface." Father's words. I've learned over and over how true they were, from the cases in court, my encounters with the Phantom, to the answers I still seek to this day. I should have repeated Father's advice to Aura. Perhaps she'll listen now.